Out of the Clouds
by twriter12
Summary: A series of one-shots in The Walking Dead universe featuring Rosita Espinosa and most of the characters.
1. Giving Something Up

The first night after their Savior mission Rosita was still on a high. She was tired but restless. There was little sleep the morning they returned to Alexandria. They had to store the weapons, food, and other supplies they took from the outpost. After that she showered and ate. She slept two hours and then stayed up all night at the top of the stairs with weapon in hand waiting to defend herself from retaliation. This life was about waiting for the bad to happen. It's wasn't _if_ the bad would happen; it was a matter of when. It was inevitable.

Now she sat in her bedroom which was dark except for a single flickering candle that cast her slender shadow on the wall. She was dealing with many emotions over the past three days. And her mind was unable to turn off no matter how much her eyes burned from exhaustion. Abraham left her. Talk about bad timing. But she was a pro. She was strong. It didn't prevent her from getting the job done. They killed so many people they couldn't count. So, that sucked but she didn't feel bad about it. Those people were evil. They killed a kid at The Hilltop. They tried to kill three of her own. So there were reasons for their attack. It wasn't preemptive; it was self-defense. It was a reaction to the Saviors' actions. Some people may disagree but it was very much justified. She'd never believe otherwise. But of all the things she grappled with, what made her hands shake, what had her pacing back and forth in her bedroom talking to herself was Carol.

In the last twenty-four hours just the mere sight of that woman made Rosita's blood boil. How dare she defend Morgan? As if the rest of them wanted to kill. Enjoyed it. Reveled in it. It had to be done. She was offended by Morgan's judgment of them. He wasn't special. It was easy to refuse to kill, to stand on some moral high ground when you were surrounded by people who were willing to forsake everything they were and everything they believed in so others could live.

Rosita volunteered at an animal shelter and was awaiting acceptance to college when life as she knew it ended. This wasn't the life she imagined for herself. There were no dreams of being a mercenary. She had enough kills to qualify for serial killer status. That's not how she saw her life. Her dreams saw her traveling and not to Georgia and Virginia. She wanted Rome, Barcelona, and Paris, which might as well be Saturn and Mars now. With each kill she felt herself lose a bit of who she was. And each day she had to live with that. So no, killing wasn't the easy choice in this new world as Carol said.

Carol and Morgan didn't want to take a life? Part of her wanted those two to come across the likes of The Saviors by themselves and see the outcome. She already knew the outcome - at least she knew what Carol would do. Carol would kill. Cold blooded. Carol and Morgan didn't get to stand on a pedestal like they were better than the rest of them. Hell, those two were battling with the demons of their past extremes. She heard about Carol's behavior back at the prison when she killed two sick defenseless people. And Morgan killing everyone in sight. He tried to kill Rick. What good, sane person with good intentions would want to kill Rick? Punch him in the face one good time, sure. But kill Rick?

The rest of them never went that far. The lives they took were always to save their own and the lives of those they loved. She was still human. Alive. Not some breathing version of a walker focused on death and destruction. Sure, Rosita was tired of the killing but she would never get tired of living. She wasn't willing to trade that in for anything.

She turned at the creaking sound that was made when anyone stepped on the next to last step on the staircase. Facing the door, she pointed her gun at her bedroom door and readied herself. There wasn't a sound. She stopped breathing as she waited in anticipation. Then there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Rosita? It's me, Tara."

She released a long breath and lowered her gun. "Hold on." She lay her weapon on the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats over her underwear. She thought of lighting another candle but lately the darkness was when she felt most at ease. She walked over and unlocked the door and opened it just enough so Tara got the message it was okay to enter before she walked back over to her gun.

Rosita sat on the bed and crossed her legs. Tara sat in the chair near the window eyeing her gun.

"What's up?" Rosita asked. Her voice sounded a bit annoyed which wasn't at all how she felt. Her facial expressions and tone often never relayed her true feelings. She wasn't in a bad mood nearly as much as she seemed to portray. Life wasn't a beauty pageant, not before and definitely not now so she didn't feel the need to walk around with a permanent smile on her face for no reason. She thought she was normal but apparently not.

"I couldn't sleep." She shrugged. "And since you never sleep I thought I'd take a chance."

Actually, she had no problems sleeping before. Now that she was alone it was harder. Tara didn't spend much time at home now that she and Denise were an item. After Abraham moved out Rosita felt like she was in this big house with Eugene that didn't seem nearly big enough because...Eugene. It felt like he was always under her foot as her mother said about her and her siblings.

"Why are you awake?" Rosita asked.

"Thinking about that mission. I still have nightmares." Tara held her head down. "It's not something Denise knows anything about. I can't talk to her about it."

"Seems like the only person around here who has a clue is Aaron." Rosita rolled her eyes. "The rest of them..."

"They've changed. They never had to be strong before but when the shit hit the fan they were there."

Tara always had a penchant for defending everyone. She was gullible. Believed everyone was who they said they were. The thing about trusting people until they gave you a reason not to was that now you might not live long enough to realize you made an error in judgment.

"Why can't you sleep tonight? Abraham?"

"No. Carol and Morgan."

"What about them?"

"I came real close to telling everyone what he did. Hiding that guy in here who tried to kill us."

"It's best not to."

"What? That man could have killed Denise." Of all people, she thought Tara would be upset about Morgan's secret prisoner.

"But he didn't. He saved her. He had a clear path and he went back to save her."

"Because he needed her. That's why he saved her."

Tara shook her head. "Not the way Denise explained it. He saved her. She's alive because of him. Everything isn't black and white. Not even now. That's still the same."

Rosita couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was like they were brainwashed. Tara knew what it was like out there. To hear her defend Morgan and the man who, with his friends, killed the Alexandrians...she felt like she was in the twilight zone.

"People have a right to know for their own safety who they are living with. Carol doesn't think anyone should know."

"I agree. She didn't want what happened to her to happen to him."

Rosita stared at her.

"If Rick found out Denise and Carol could have died because of what Morgan did, he would have kicked him out of Alexandria like he did Carol when they were at that prison."

"And?" Rosita cocked her head to one side. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"No one makes it out there alone. I know that now more than ever." She looked out of the window for a while before turning her attention back to Rosita. "So yeah, he deserves to be here."

"We deserve to have someone who has our backs. Someone who doesn't put us in danger." It didn't take long for her to become agitated and her voice became louder. This was a subject she felt strongly about and Tara would never convince her Morgan's secret shouldn't be told.

"He has our back. He's useful. It takes all kinds to make it now. What's important is that he's a good guy."

"There are no good guys and bad guys. There are just people. There isn't right or wrong, there just is."

"Come on, gorgeous. You don't believe that."

"Of course I do."

"When I rolled up on that prison I was part of a group that was ready to take it from Glenn and Maggie and the rest of them. The man I followed was bad. He killed Maggie's father in front of me. To them, I was a bad guy. And Glenn accepted me because he gave me a chance and I didn't let him down. Good thing there's three strikes instead of one because I would have been out after that attack.

You're good. Eugene, Abraham, Morgan, Carol, Gabriel. Everyone here is good. We may all have our own ways of doing things and some of us may be further along when it comes to figuring out this world we live in but we're all good. So we have to stick together because that's the only way we're going to make it. It shouldn't matter that he doesn't want to kill."

Rosita stood up with her gun and stood before the window. "It's not about being kicked out. Gabriel betrayed us and he wasn't kicked out after everyone found out. No one is getting kicked out because they won't kill. He put people in danger. As long as everyone knows the truth and knows who they are dealing with then that's one thing. But to not know a man would hide killers among us is another thing."

"Maybe."

Rosita's jaw was tense. Maybe? She sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Are you sleepy yet?" Tara asked.

"Not really."

"Well, what should we talk about?" She smiled.

Rosita couldn't help but laugh. Tara had a way of making things a little less stressful.

They both turned and aimed their weapons as the bedroom door opened wider. Eugene stood in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"Slumber party," Tara said. "Wanna join?"

"Love to." He entered the room. "I never participated in this rite of passage when I was a kid but I imagine they didn't have near the companions I have this evening."

Rosita and Tara both laughed because it was useless being upset with Eugene. He would never change. Rosita wasn't even sure she wanted him to. The most important change, his transition from a coward, was the most important.

"Hey Eugene," Tara said, "what do you think of Morgan?" She tossed a smile Rosita's way.

This was going to be a long night.


	2. Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word

_I didn't mean for it to take so long to update this. Thanks for taking the time to read about Rosita. Hopefully, another idea will pop in my head._

* * *

As soon as they entered the high walls of The Hilltop, Rosita felt the shift in her disposition. Her soul became uneasy. She ran her hands up and down her pants legs. It was the unease of anticipation. She knew she would have an encounter she wasn't prepared for or, frankly, interested in having. It seemed like one thing after the other with hardly a moment to think or feel. Abraham left her, she was captured by the Saviors and thought she would die, then she watched Abraham die, she was angry and wanted revenge only to watch Spencer and Olivia die and Eugene captured.

One of the guards on the wall, Kal, sent someone to find Jesus. They realized it was time. Time to come together. They all pretended to go along with Rick's belief they should submit to Negan while individually working to kill him. She learned Carl and Michonne were just as active in trying to take out the man who took their loved ones but her actions were the only ones that caused more bloodshed and loss. She would have to deal with that but all she felt at the moment was anger. That seemed to be the only emotion she was capable of tapping into.

At least now Rick was on board with fighting back. She was happy he pulled his head out of his ass and realized bowing down would not keep them alive. Negan would do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted and it didn't matter if they followed his rules; he'd kill, destroy, or steal if he wanted. He had no honor. His word, an agreement, meant nothing. They were basically at his mercy.

"What's going on over there?" She asked.

There was a shed and smoke coming from a chimney. Two men in aprons appeared to be working hard.

"They make their own weapons and other things," Rick said. "Even forks, knives, and spoons."

Those spears were great for the walkers but she preferred the feel of her Glock 19. She couldn't wait to get her hands on weapons again. A man walked by leading two cows. Off to the right was a garden and a chicken coop. A woman carried a basket full of tomatoes. They definitely had the leg up on Alexandria when it came to food and overall sustainability. At least before Negan they had weapons, now they were practically helpless.

There was no pavement and the rain made the ground nothing more than slippery red mud and she lost her footing and by reflex grabbed onto Rick's sleeve to remain upright.

"Watch your step. You okay?" He held her up.

"Yeah. Thanks," she muttered.

She recalled Abraham being impressed with this place after his trip. It felt even more secure than Alexandria, that should admit. But nothing compared to the comfort of Alexandria. She missed the sidewalks back home. And she much preferred the homes to these trailers. At least in the walls of her house she could have a few moments to feel like things were normal.

"I'll take you to everyone," said the man escorting them.

"Everyone?" Rosita asked. She glanced at Rick.

They entered the building. It was grand; the decorations ornate. Gold wallpaper on the walls, mirrors, and drapes. Maggie, Daryl, and Enid walked out of a room off to the side. Sasha appeared along with Jesus at the top of the curved staircase. She watched momentarily as they descended.

She wrapped her arms around Maggie and held her tight. She didn't want to say sorry anymore. She didn't want to take Maggie backward in her healing just so she could make herself feel better by giving condolences once again. She was happy to see Maggie and Daryl and she didn't really know Enid but it was seeing the other member of their group that made her anxious.

"Is, are you," Rosita stammered at Maggie.

"I'm fine. The baby is fine." Maggie pulled back and smiled at her, noticing her wound. "Dr. Carson needs to take a look at that. Get you stitches if you need them. It's really good."

Everyone greeted everyone. Hugs were given freely and honestly. They stood around and discussed how they could go about fighting the saviors. They needed people, a lot more people, and guns, and ammo. It seemed impossible task to take them all out but really, all she wanted was to kill Negan. Michonne was a motivator but she had no plan to execute. Daryl was simply itching to fight and it didn't matter how or when or where. Jesus couldn't manage to fully stand up to that weak prick Gregory who got off on calling them all by the wrong names.

Enid took Carl on a tour of the community before lunch. Others dispersed and somehow she found herself alone in a room with the one person she didn't want to see.

Sasha stood off to the side staring out the window. Just as Rosita was about to walk outside and do a little self-guided tour of her own she heard Sasha clear her throat. Rosita rolled her eyes. Was she about to talk?

"I'm sorry about Spencer. He was a nice guy."

Rosita shrugged. "He was a zipless fuck."

"A what?"

She sighed heavily. "Two people get together and have sex for sex's sake. Nothing more. No shit. No guilt. No regret." She stared at the other woman. The other woman in more ways than one.

Sasha nodded and stared off into the distance, obviously unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry about Abraham."

Rosita played in her head who would mention him first. She hadn't planned on ever talking about him to Sasha but she always thought the other woman wouldn't have the nerve to bring him up either. Not after what she did.

"Are you?" She placed her weight on her right leg and crossed her arms across her chest. "What does that mean, exactly? Sorry he's dead or sorry you stole him? Sorry enough that if you could go back and not do it that you wouldn't?"

Sasha held her head down.

"Yeah. Not _that_ sorry."

"I'm hurting too, Rosita."

"Not because you were betrayed. You just feel bad about not having him anymore."

"I feel like I lost everything."

She could hear the quiver in her voice. Sasha had a lot of nerve trying to cry on her shoulder. Was she actually looking for sympathy from the woman who was dumped? "Now you're without a man _and_ a friend."

She looked over at Sasha and she knew she hurt her. Being honest with herself that's what she wanted to do. She wanted to hurt Sasha as she and Abraham hurt her. She didn't deserve the pain those two put her through. She never betrayed that code between friends. You would think the end of the world made people bond more, respect more. They fought together. Saved each other's lives. She was the one who knew something was wrong with Sasha and went outside the walls of Alexandria to look for her, help her, listen to her, be there for her. And what did she get in return? A knife in the back, a broken heart, and a cold bed.

"I hope one day we can be friends again. I...I want to fix this between us."

"You think what you did is fixable? That because the pickings are slim here on earth that gives you a pass to betray me?"

"He ended things with you before. Nothing happened when you two were together."

"That's right. He did. And he had every right to do so. Doesn't mean you should have did what you did. He should have been off limits to you."

"So he shouldn't have been with anyone else?"

"He could have. Just not you. Not you, not Carol, or Michonne, or Maggie, or Tara. Not anyone in our group."

"Rosita..."

"Save it,"

The hardest part about losing Abraham was that she didn't even see him slipping away. She thought she had him. She thought he was right where he wanted to be - with her. But the truth was that she was happy and he was passing time until someone else came along. That hurt. Had she been passing the time, if they had been on the same page, the end of their relationship wouldn't have rocked her. She would have been bruised instead of broken.

Now she didn't even have happy memories because she dissected them until they meant nothing. She doubted every shared laugh, every kiss, every time they made love. There was a time when she would bet her life it was all genuine. No more. Now his laughter was a shield. His words were lies. His looks at her a disguise.

"You want me to feel bad for loving him," Sasha's voice said behind her. "But I don't."

She turned to face Sasha. She crossed her arms.

"And I never will. I loved him," she said as she nodded. "And he loved me. I'm sorry that hurt you but I don't think it could have happened any other way that wouldn't make you angry."

"You," she said as she pointed at Sasha, "could have come to me."

"And you would have given your blessing?"

Her blessing? She shook her head in disbelief at Sasha's sheer selfishness.

"The thing is Rosita, it sucks and you have every right to be upset and I understand that, but you gotta know that no way would have been acceptable to you."

"So if you understand what are you doing here? Why are you bothering me? Just let me hate you in peace."

Sasha took a few steps toward her. "What's going on is bigger than us. I just want to make sure we can play well on a team."

"I don't work well with cowards. Besides, you're here and I'm in Alexandria. We don't need to work together."

"We won't always have that option. When we get in a bad situation we don't have time to think about hurt feelings, not when the mission and our lives are on the line. When I suggest something will you back it even though it's my idea?"

"When have you ever come up with an idea?"

She sighed. "This isn't what I wanted. You're hurt. I played a part in that. I'm sorry, but...

"Save it," she said as she walked up the stairs. She wasn't sure where she was going but she wanted to be alone. She roamed around the second floor and eventually found a balcony. She stood and looked out over the community. It was a nice enough place that if Sasha found her way back to Alexandria she'd stay here. But truthfully, she would love if Sasha stayed her ass at The Hilltop.

"You know," she heard Tara's voice behind her, "Sasha is one of us."

Rosita shook her head. She wouldn't feel pressured into forgiving Sasha for Sasha's sake. They weren't friends. She was the one who was screwed over. It was hard to believe that all the codes of the previous life meant nothing to anyone anymore.

"Can't I get any peace and quiet around here?"

"You're better than this," Tara said as she joined Rosita against the railing.

"You know nothing about this." She eyed Tara. "Why don't you find a way to be useful. Denise was the therapist, not you and now she's dead. You didn't develop her knowledge by sleeping with her."

"Wow, everyone is right. You're being a real bitch."

That gave her pause for a moment, to know she was the topic of secret conversations. It also didn't surprise her. They all went into their little cliques. Since Abraham died, she didn't belong. She was alone and it didn't feel good.

"I'm not mad at you for being that way," she said with a shake of her head. "But wow."

"Who do you think you are? We picked you up on the side of the road like I lost puppy. You're always clinging on to someone. You're just like Eugene."

"You lost family and friends. You lost Abraham. You lost a feeling of security. You're not the only one," Tara said. "I lost my father, my sister, my niece, my belief that I would always do the right thing when I attacked the prison and Maggie's family. No one gets out of this life unscathed but we have to be better than I worst instincts, our worst selves. You feel guilty about Olivia and Eugene. I get that. I would too if I were you." Tara shook her head. "That's some heavy post hoc ergo proptor hoc shit."

Rosita leaned her back against the railing and watched Tara.

"Instead of crying, instead of talking about your guilt, you're going to take everyone's head off. You're going to make them hate you because we don't hate you now and you think that's what you deserve. We don't work like that. That's not who we are."

And with that, she walked back into the house. Rosita bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head, turning to look out at The Hilltop and beyond. She was angry, guilty, resentful, sad and probably a dozen other things. She didn't know if she was coming or going, she felt so frantic at times. And she felt lost and hopeless, and the worst was that she felt alone.

They were ready to fight, but she couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. The others were fighting for their future lives and she was fighting to avenge the past.


End file.
